Shirts
by DaystoDawn
Summary: Looking back on things, Allen really did have a thing for people from the east. AU,Yullen, rated for swearing and slightly sexual themes. -DISCONTINUED FOR NOW- For more detail, check out my profile.


**I don't own...yet.**

_Chapter 1: Buttondowns_

* * *

He reached into his locker for the spare shirt he always kept in there. He slipped off the once-white button up, which was now covered in a mess of pink and orange from the fruity drink his clumsy customer had spilled on him. He sighed and looked at it critically, setting his spare shirt on a lone bench while groping into his narrow locker once more, bringing out a half empty bottle of stain remover. He shook a fair amount onto his soiled shirt, before placing it back in his locker, to be washed with liberal amounts of bleach when he got back. He put on his spare, a dark black number, and thanked the gods that black was nearly un-stainable. It was early into the night, but it seemed that it was going to be one of those nights full of a lot of trouble, and a lot more bad drunks. He turned to a dingy mirror hanging on the wall and checked his reflection. He smoothed out a few non-existent wrinkles before throwing on a friendly smile and pushing the door open.

He dodged a waitress in daring lingerie, and made his way back behind the bar. A mob was already present there, waiting and barely in control. His co-worker, a waitress named Tina, paused in the middle of what sounded to be a fervent apology to an irate drunk. The look of relief came across her face looked akin to the facial expression of an emergency amputee seeing a syringe of morphine. He slipped behind his bar as she mouthed a silent thank you. He nodded, barely re-pressing a laugh at her disheveled state. The rest of his night was spent on automatic, mixing drinks and pretending to care about people's problems. Luckily for him, he'd landed the early shift, and got to leave around 12. The last few hours were left to the other bartender. As he snuck back to the locker room, his boss intercepted him.

"Walker, I don't suppose you could stay a few more hours? We've got a big private party that's still here and one of the…err, _male waiters_ got sick…" This statement, along with the light sheen of awkward sweat on the owners face and the nervous fiddling of his hands did not bode well for Allen. He waited in dread for the point of the conversation, though he already had a pretty good idea where it was heading.

"Well, let's face it, you're just about the only other male I've got working here, and you've done it before" Allen's already pale face turned a shade or two lighter. He remembered well the last time he'd replaced a waiter for a private party. The first time had been okay, mostly a bunch of barely-drinking-aged girls celebrating a bachelorette party. It was all full of giggle and calling him cute. Nothing bad. So he'd tried a second time.

And that was his mistake. This time, he got the party of cougars searching desperately for a booty call. He had his ass slapped so many times that night that he had to _ice_ _it. _You see, male waiters was really codeword for 'sucker who gets to walk around in little-to-nothing' depending on clientele. And Allen had seen who was being served at _this_ particular private party. There had been nothing but men going in. And that meant short-shorts and a bow tie. If he was lucky, he'd get to wear an open, too-tight tuxedo jacket.

"No." Allen responded tersely. "No bloody way in _hell_ am I working a gay party. No. Not gonna happen. You know what those old ladies did to my arse."

"Well that was pretty bad…but this one isn't that bad! And most of the people are fully clothed!" Allen turned green as horrible memories tried to force their way back.

"No. Not on your life"

* * *

Of course, he ended up in the locker room, pulling on a pair of black dress-pants anyway. A promise of time and a half, longer breaks, and being able to be fully clothed had finally persuaded our poor, unsuspecting brit. He unbuttoned the top few buttons of his black shirt, staring angrily at it in the mirror. He recalled a time where he once felt grateful for its existence, but now its exposure of a few inches of skin made it his most hated enemy. He felt no need to muster up a friendly smile this time. Maybe an aggravated scowl would keep the hands off his rear this time (though a wiser corner of his mind reminded him that is most assuredly would not)

He walked through the congregation of men, doing his best to be a small and unnoticeable as possible (hard with his scar and silvery-platinum hair) To his relief, they were mostly clothed, save for the one or two ever-present vagabonds that came with every group. He walked quickly through the throng his tray of appetizers slowly emptying itself. He did his best to avoid the gropes and smacks that came his way, and would his way back to the kitchen, where, to his horror, he found he would apparently be delivering a special cake that had been purchased for the guest of honor at the birthday party. He held the modestly sized pastry well below his gaze. It was made in a disturbingly accurate phallus shape, which only reminded him just how much harder he had to work to avoid his co-worker's gaze and he advanced towards the pole. To top it all off, he had to start the birthday song. And place a kiss on the birthday boy's cheek.

He decided that god must hate him.

He took a deep breath to calm himself and threw on the most calming, inviting grin he could think of. Then, step by step, he walked over to the dark haired, Asian guest of honor to sing him happy birthday.

* * *

Lavi sat there impatiently, tapping his fingers against the table and subtly checking his cell phone. He couldn't wait for the look on the birthday boy's face when the cake arrived. It would be _priceless._ Well worth the extra costs. He was glad Old Tiedoll was paying for most of the party, though he didn't know of its nature. His heart was pounding, and he barely hid one of his massive, Cheshire grins. He took side-long glances at the man on the pole, and kept his main attention on the kitchen door…any second now…

"Hey Usgai, what are you doing? You look like you're waiting for something." He jumped for a second, Yu's voice startling him before he mischievously replied with;

"You'll see."

Then, the lights dimmed, and Lavi turned his cell phone camera on the record the video of a life time.

Allen sidled over as sensuously as he could without looking like a major slut. His arms and voice were shaking slightly as he opened his mouth to sing the first words.

"Happy Birthday to you..."

All eyes snapped to him as he reached one hand up, the other holding the cake as firmly as he could, and lit the corny "26" candle on top. The entire main table looked as though they were going to wet themselves laughing, save for one surly looking Asian man.

"Happy Birthday to you…"

He placed the comically shaped cake on the table, in front the shocked man and his heart sped up like never before. He could not believe he was going to do this. Not only was it completely morifying, it made him feel odd, like a kiss-prostitute. Also, he was hungry, and the cake he was carrying was absolutely _taunting _him.

"Happy Birthday…"

And then, he gave the kiss, short, and with his face cherry red, onto the puzzled cheek of the Asian man. And quickly, almost not missing a beat, he finished the embarrassing song.

"…Dear Alma, Happy Birthday to you." And with that, he turned and walked back to the kitchen, followed by the cheers of the entire party.

* * *

Around 1:30 in the morning, things finally started dying down. Allen started wiping down tables as people slowly left the party. After a little while, the only people left were the guest of honor and a few others. Allen had just picked up some of the last stray glasses when one of the remaining customers waved him over. Allen glanced back to the tray of dirty dishes in his hand, to the kitchen, where one of the other waiters was giving him the thumbs up. He sighed and set down his tray.

To say he didn't want to go back over to the scene of his crime would be an understatement. He wanted to crawl in a corner and hide from the world. But a job was a job, and serving the customers what they wanted was a rather large part of it. He walked over, his smile a bit strained.

"Is there anything I can help you with?"

The redheaded one of the bunch grinned, and Allen very suddenly felt like someone's prey.

"Well, you see here Mr…" "Allen. Allen Walker."

"Right. Well you see here, Mr. Allen, my good ol' pal Alma-" The red head reached over to the birthday boy, who was trying to inch away slowly, and slung his arm over his neck, pulling him back over. "–thinks that you have a cute ass and-" "LAVI!" Alma cried indignantly, "You weren't supposed to tell him that!" Allen's face started turning a pinkish hue, and Alma was well on his way to a shade of scarlet that a Crayola crayon would have been jealous of, but Lavi kept going.

"And even though he's too shy to tell you, he would really like to meet you some other time. Right, Alma?" Alma turned his head to his feet, his face crimson, rubbed the back of his head in a very awkward manner, barely managing to stutter out and quiet "Well…yeah…" Lavi clapped a hand on his back, making him stumble forward a little.

"That's m'boy, Alma! So, Allen," Lavi said, with a face that showed he already knew the answer. "What do ya say? Will you give him a chance?" As if on cue, Alma, looked up, a shy, hopeful look on his face. Now, on general principal, Allen did not go out with people he met through work. On average, he got asked out at least twice a night, by both genders. However, when he looked at Alma's hopeful face, and Lavi's slightly determined face, Allen figured that there couldn't be any harm in giving him his number. And, anyway, he doubted this Lavi would let him get away without accepting. He had this strange tingly feeling that Lavi had blackmail on everyone in the room, including the janitor that just arrived. He gave a sigh of defeat and said "Okay."

Alma's face split into a huge grin and his eyes grew wide. Allen was vaguely alarmed from the sudden change in mood. Alma had suddenly gone from a bumbling mess into someone who looked like they had won the lottery.

"You will? Oh my god!" Alma said "I mean...uh...that's cool...so...uh, could I get your number? Y'know, to text or call and stuff?" Allen nodded and fumbled in his pockets for a moment, finally producing a battered cell phone. Alma looked a little nervous and eyed the phone "Do you want me to give you mine...?" Which, as any fool knew, meant that he could very well never call. Allen shook his head, slightly weary.

"No, no, nothing like that. I just can never remember my number." "Oh" He pressed a few numbers, and turned the screen to Alma, who leaned over, and pulled out his own (much newer looking) phone. After numbers were exchanged, awkward silence set in. The silence was aided by Lavi, who seemed to be relishing it. After a few moments of avoiding eye contact, Allen broke the quiet.

"I, uh, have to go finish up." He said, gesturing vaguely around the half-picked up room. "Y'know, tables and stuff."

Alma jumped slightly. "Oh, yeah, of course!" He turned to pick up his discarded jacket. "I have to go home anyway." He nodded and Alma waved goodbye, walking out the door of the private room, followed closely by Lavi, who turned to look at him with a sly grin. Allen felt as though he had just gotten himself into a very, very bad situation.

* * *

It was early in the morning, some months after the Allen-Alma exchange, as Allen's now-friend, Lavi called it. Allen had ended up going on a date with Alma, and after a fiasco involving a large amount of popcorn and a patch of spilled drink, it had gone well. So well, in fact, that Allen decided to call Alma again. And again. And before he knew it, they were actually dating. Alma had to be the sweetest boy Allen had ever met. He was incredibly naïve, and a little eccentric. He did spontaneous things, such as leaving a small pink moose on the hood of Allen's car, or calling just as Allen got off work to ask how it had been. Needless to say, they were both steadily becoming smitten with each other.

Before Alma, Allen had never really thought much of his sexuality. Yeah, he'd had a girlfriend once or twice, just silly high school flings. He'd experimented in college, and even had a few one-night stands with both girls and boys alike. But none of those gave him any idea as to which side of the team he might bat for. Most romantic things just ran on automatic for him, like taking the one shy girl, Lo Fwa, to the prom, or hooking up at his first party. Not to say he disregarded them as foolish, he just never saw them as big events. But Alma had changed that for him. Slowly, but surely, he was beginning to feel that he might in fact, be a little more light in the loafers than he originally thought.

Alma brightened up his day, and gave it a livelihood that it hadn't had before. He was still awkward about some things, that holding hands in public. PDA had never been a specialty of Allen's, something that Alma had been both quick to pick up on, and quick to respect. Their 'first time' together had been somewhat awkward and bumpy, but Alma had been sweet about it, telling him that he loved him (because he did, something they had established long ago.) Things had been going great, and Allen had never felt better in his life.

His cell phone rung, it tone going off loudly and it vibrate function making up move slowly to the edge of his nightstand. Allen reached over, slightly groggy after a night of work, and smiled when he saw his caller id. He flipped it open and laid on his back.

"Hey Alma. Good morning."

"Hey Allen! Good morning! Hey, guess what!"

Allen chuckled at the obvious excitement in his boyfriends voice, and decided to mess with him. He of course new full well what had his usually sleepy lover up so early. He had been going on non-stop about how his and Lavi's old friend was moving back into town.

"Um…you won the lottery?"

"What? No! Guess again!"

"Hmmm…You ended world hunger?"

"NO! C'mon Allen, you can guess!"

Allen bit back a laugh and struggled out to reply "Nope, haven't a clue then."

He heard Alma sucking in a big breath and practically yelling

"YU'SCOMINGHOMETODAY!"

And poor little Allen had no idea how significant those words would become to him.

* * *

**A/N: So, what do you think? I'm a little on edge about this. Originally, Allen was going to be a stripper and Kanda a wealthy businessman, but it just didn't work. **

**I have NO idea how long this will be. I have it vaguely outlined in my head. Ish.**

**If you find any mistakes, and miss-spellings, any instances of Allen useing the word "Ass" Instead of "arse" tell me. If you have any suggestions,tell me. For the love of god, just talk to me.**

**And yes, this IS a yullen. **

**(PS; who can spot the hidded exorcist?)**


End file.
